Welcome to Survival of the Fittest, a RPing board loosely based off of Koshun Takami's Battle Royale, with its own unique plot and spin on the 'deadly game'. We've been around quite a while, and are now in our thirteenth year, so don't worry about us going anywhere any time soon!

If you're a newcomer and interested in joining, then please make sure you check out the rules. You may also want to read the FAQ, introduce yourself and stop by the chat to meet some of our members. If you're still not quite sure where to start, then we have a great New Member's Guide with a lot of useful information about getting going. Don't hesitate to PM a member of staff (they have purple usernames) if you have any questions about SOTF and how to get started!

Morgan cursed sharply. Forcing his emotions under control, he inhaled deeply, followed be a heavily exhale. He’d been angry when reading his map. Hadn’t been paying attention. Now, under control of his frustration, the boy was fairly certain he wasn’t any where near where he wanted to be. No matter, as long as he could figure out where he was, he could proceed from there. No need to get worked up, only a minor setback.

Folding up the map, he placed it and the compass back in his daypack. About to move on, Morgan heard the sound of someone yelling. Not the blood chilling scream of someone being cut or gunned down, but a cry of frustration and rage that was nearly as frightening. Perhaps an alliance breaking down? The image of a student, who couldn’t put up with the stress any longer, killing another flashed through Morgan’s mind. It made him smile. If that were the case, that would mean there would very soon be a chance to catch somebody off guard, or scavenge anything of worth from a barely cooling body. Waste not, want not.

Closing in on the origin of the sound, Morgan passed by the remains of several students. He recognized a few of them, but couldn’t force himself to care. They were dead and he wasn’t; nothing else mattered. He also noticed that all of their useful tools had been systematically removed and destroyed. Whoever had been here was very systematic. Morgan felt a vague sense of respect.

Continuing down the dingy path, he wondered if he really should bother to stop. There were plenty of ways for the encounter to go wrong. Whoever was here was practical if nothing else. They were playing to win and trying to limit any tool that might be used against them. Very clever. It’s what I would do. Well, Mr. Player, you’re certainly going to be a challenge. You might even be able to beat me. The idea of losing, of dying, left a bad taste in his mouth. But, the benefits could be substantial, if he played his cards right.

Coming to a stop just outside the door, Morgan listened to the conversation unraveling inside. Two girls were, apparently, comparing who they were killing. One of them even said “we,” which implied some sort of partnership. He found the thought intriguing. Maybe he could talk them into letting him join up with them. If they agreed on the enterprise, Morgan could go much farther, much faster than he’d ever expected. But, he’d need to watch his back. Players would be nothing if not pragmatic, as the broken tools had shown.

Stepping into the doorway, he cleared his throat, waiting to catch their attention. Normally, Morgan was very shy. He never managed to get comfortable around other people, but comfort could take a backseat, compared to survival. “Melina Frost? Now, that will be a challenge, won’t it?" Sliding the straight razor from his front pocket, he held it loosely in his scarred hand, allowing the blade to fall open. "Those Angels are going to be quite the obstacle. Luckily, I have a proposition that could be beneficial for all of us.” He let the statement hang in the air a moment before snapping the razor blade back home with a flick of the wrist.

A smile spread across Morgan's features. It was a cold expression, with little humor in it. Inwardly he prayed he looked as impressive as he thought he did. Can't look weak. Put up a strong front. Image is everything if people you want people to trust you. Animals always follow the strongest member of their pack. If you're not strong, fake it. Inwardly the boy shook like a leaf in a hurricane. He just hoped they wouldn't notices his palms were sweating.

"Yes. I overheard Melina call them Angels when passing by that big hollow tree." He remembered the fight around there. He'd been passing by on his way towards the quarry and was forced to go around them. With only his razor, he knew there was no one there he could get away with killing. At the time he'd been slightly upset, but the little information he had about Frost proved itself worthy as bargaining point with the girls.

One of the girls seemed to be much sharper than the other. She'd been ready for a fight the moment he'd walked in, but managed to keep her cool. She'd assessed the danger of Melina's group and was looking for ways to get around it. She even seemed to entertain his idea of a temporary partnership. Morgan could tell that if she accepted the deal, she wouldn't lower her guard. She was a dangerous woman. The boy felt a flutter in his stomach, but crushed the sensation underfoot.

"You're very astute..." he searched his memory for the slight girl's name, "Layla, is it? Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I never was a people person." Giving a slight shrug, as if to brush off his possible mistake, Morgan took a few more steps into the room. "I don't believe in safety in numbers. Either of you could kill me just as quickly as anyone else. I just understand that it's dangerous to be overwhelmed. So, in the interests of staying alive long enough to have the chance to kill each other, I propose a partnership. What do you say?"

“Laeil” corrected him sharply. She didn’t bother to explain the name change. Fine by me. No reason to get too close. Sliding the razor back into his pocket, he clenched and unclenched his scarred first. The girls agreed to his proposal much more quickly than Morgan had anticipated. A sly grin graced his lips, but inwardly he sighed heavy in relief. Well, that was a well placed bet. This could pay off nicely.

"Probably best if we split up again after the fact, too. We won't really need each other then, unless you can suggest anyone else to hunt." The second girl was right. After completing their goal, the three had nothing to keep them together. A group with no purpose would be dangerous to be in. “We'll track them down, take care of them, and once the Angels are no more, we'll go our separate ways.” Laeil was quickly finished getting dressed, gathering up her things as she spoke.

“You’re right, of course. After this we’ll have nothing in common. Best not to place your trust too deeply in anyone else, after all.”

Hefting her pack to her shoulder, her eyes cold as stone, Laeil spoke up once more. "But before we do anything, let me get one thing straight." “When it comes down to it, Melina is mine to kill. You two can take care of her lackeys, but if she dies by anyone's hand but mine..." She trailed off, the implications hanging heavily in the air. Tightening her grip on the sword in her hand, she strode towards Morgan and the door. The smirk on her face reminded the scarred boy of a grinning skull. He almost took a step back as she passed.

With a barely suppressed shiver, he wiped his sweating palms on his pants legs. A very dangerous lady. He watched her go before turning his gaze on the second young woman. There was no way in hell he was going to have one of them at his back. He didn’t have a death wish. With sly smile, he waved his hand towards the door. “After you, ma’am. I insist.”

Leaning against the doorframe, Morgan watched as the girl loaded her archaic weapon. He would have chuckled at the sight, but compared to his own weapon, the ancient firearm was much more useful. More importantly, he noticed that all the while she poured and pressed, she always kept an eye on him. Smart girl.

When she finally made her way into the jungle proper, Morgan followed behind at a respectful distance. No reason to frighten the girl by hounding her steps. She could misconstrue any sudden or suspicious move and put her gun to good use. Best not to tempt fate. A safe distance behind his temporary partners, Morgan disappeared into the jungle.